Djarindjin

The day after we finished the compost toilet's footings, Steve and I drove up to Djarindjin. Unlike Djugarargyn and Ngamakoon, which are called "outstations" or "blocks," Djarindjin is a "community." This means that people other than extended family members live in the same area. There is a council. There are ~300 citizens. There are also many more unseemly social issues.

It was in Djarindjin that I first met Trevor Sampi, Kevin George, and his son Dwayne. Steve had invited them over for lunch and suggested that I might like to hang out with them for a while. Once they'd finished lunch and a short interrogation of my intentions as a researcher, they invited me to ride along in their truck as a temporary member of the Bardi-Jawi Rangers. The Indigenous Rangers Program is funded by the federal government with the intentions of a) providing economic opportunities for young Aboriginal Australians who make the effort to stay in their home communities and b) encouraging active oversight of the harvest and use of resources on land held by the community.

To this end, we drove out to a few isolated blocks, checking up on residents, letting them know what was going on throughout the Dampier, asking what was going on there with the flora and fauna, and generally "looking out for country." Kevin George, the head ranger, repeatedly stated that this was the program's real utility. Since no one else could travel so widely and freely across the landscape, the rangers felt a certain level of responsibility for the entirety of Bardi and Jawi traditional lands.

I also met Mark Shadforth on this trip. Mark proved to be an uncompromisingly honest, open, and eager resource when it came to recounting the thoughts young men have about either staying home or making money somewhere else. But these conversations were still in the future. As was my second visit up to Ngamakoon. After we returned to Djarindjin, Trevor invited me to meet his father, Uncle Paul...